


Boîtes Absurdes (Or: Yellow, Just Shut Your Mouth)

by DeductionIsKey



Series: The Boîtes Absurdes [1]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: Deadpools Happy, Eventual Happy Ending, Gen, I Going To Go Read Now, I Surprised No-Ones Done This, Ignores Deadpools Friends, Its As Good As It Sounds, Its Really Fun To Write, Like Really Guys Step Up Your Game, Once Again: Never Let Me Tag, Oops, Partial Mind Control, Peter Likes Flamingos, Peter can hear the boxes, Psychic!Peter, Telepathy, have fun, this was supposed to be 1k
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-08 04:52:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11639301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeductionIsKey/pseuds/DeductionIsKey
Summary: Peter whistled a loud New Yorker whistle that echoed in the previous shrill tones of the boxes. “Be quiet! I’m not bloody leaving! I just wanted to say I can hear everything you guys say and you’re always fighting and it gets distracting during fights because you’re talking about really interesting facts about flamingos all the time!”“Wat.” Yellow says as the taco Deadpool was holding falls to the mercy of the concrete fifty stories below.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Deutsch available: [Boîtes Absurdes (Oder: Gelb, schließe deinen Mund)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12157560) by [Jeonsa_Korea_2003](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeonsa_Korea_2003/pseuds/Jeonsa_Korea_2003)



> Peter can hear the boxes! I really wanted this fic, and it wasn't there, so I made it. I really like writing these kinds of stories, so I'm definitely making this a series! I hope you enjoy!  
> ~Deduction

 

Peter was nine when he learn to ignore the voices. He’d always latched on to the flippant thoughts of people as they went on with their daily lives, a woman complaining about her husband’s dwindling passion as he ignored her, a grandmother who didn’t know what to get her teenager for Christmas. They were comforting, a break in the constant cycle of silence that dwindled at his house. He didn’t like silence, because if it was silent, he started to think. And bad things always came when he did that.

 

The day that Peter had first tried to block someone out was Flash. It was ironic, that the boy with the most terrible anger managements skills that ever existed was the one that taught Peter control. He’d been kicking him, his thoughts a constant swirl of elation and ‘Puny Parkers’. As the thoughts grew more and more detailed, threats pooling in Flash’s brain, Peter had whimpered, drawing himself close. The barely constructed wall he’d made out of desperation and pain grew stronger as time went on, and by the time he was 11, Peter could almost convince himself he was normal.

 

Almost.

-

  
Middle School was hard. Elementary, which Peter had just graduated, thank you very much, had been okay as he was used to the chatter of the students as they had done their homework, or the whispers of want-to-be relationships. In the two years that Peter had spent building the wall, it had grow taller than ever before in that classroom, locking itself away from something so private as personal thoughts. That didn’t Peter didn’t hear partially loud thoughts, like Ms. Teghe worrying about her upcoming date, or the principals affair with the housemaid his wife had recently employed.

 

Peter had grown up fast.

 

-

Uncle Ben found out when he was 13. Really, it was a miracle that he hadn’t found when Peter was younger, but Peter had always been a introverted child, hiding his wall from even his relatives. They’d been putting up Christmas lights on the house, a rare treat as the usually grumpish landlord had allowing them to put them up. Uncle Ben had leaned across the ladder, his hand outstretched as he prepared to place his knee on the stool, thinking it would hold. Peter, catching this thought had shouted, “No!” rather loudly, the panicked sound reaching the outskirts of the neighborhood.  

 

Ben had turned toward him with a shocked eye, muttering as he came down from the stool. He walked over to where Peter sat, grabbed his hands and looked him in the eyes. Shellshocked, with slight takes of breath, Ben had asked him if he could hear voices sometimes. After Peter proclaimed, surprised and frightened, that he could, Ben had gathered him in a hug, a hysterical laugh coming out of him. “It worked.” was all he said in regard to Peter’s questions.

-

Peter can’t hear his own thoughts. He thinks, _knows,_ that they’re there, but he can’t hear them. He tries not to think the reason is because he doesn’t have his own, just other people's. It never quite works.

-

High School was _infuriating_ . It wasn’t the homework that Peter found terrible, as he actually enjoyed the payload he got each day. No, it as all the _loud_ thoughts. Teenagers think everything is so dang important, their thoughts all fighting to get recognition. It was like a constant battle with their personality and pheromones, hormones flaring and dirty looks. Peter hates it.

 

He could have been popular, he knows. He was okay looking, as well as pretty smart, which unlike 50 years ago, was considered actually attractive now. But with being popular would mean, in all those thoughts infused with anger or foolish love, some of them would be directed at him. And he couldn’t do that.

-

He could control people. Well, kind of. He first learns this when he’s digging in a dumpster trying to find one of those old computers he saw get dumped in here. Hearing a noise, Peter looked up to find the owner of the building adancing, empty coffee cup in hand. Peter’s panic brushed over his wall, causing the other man to suddenly stop and look warily at the alley, his eyes frightened as he walked away muttering about finding a normal trash bin.

 

Sometimes, in moments like this, Peter likes his ‘gift’.

-

He officially hates Spiders. Along with the sticking to walls, super strength and over-all pretty awesome abs, that had accompanded the bite, came the bloody advanced senses. And he could only watch helplessly as his wall cracked like melted plastic and came crashing down. School that day had been horrid, his senses screaming, _everything was too bright and loud. Stopitstopit._

 

He likes silence a lot more after that.

-

Uncle Ben dies, and his wall shoots so high, Peter is sure he’ll never hear people again. But then, Aunt May comes in crying, and his wall retreats like it was never there.

 

Because he needs to hear what she thinks of him, needs to know it’s not ‘murderer.’ When it’s not, Peter feels something almost akin to disappointment.

 

He decides not to think about why that is.

-

He becomes Spider-Man. He sews his suit carefully as a pure unadulterated silence accomandes him. He loves earplugs. He makes his web shooters too, using the material he had ‘borrowed’ from Oscorp. And things slow down as he up there, his wall bursted and strong for the first time in years. He saves people, he helped them like he never did before.

 

Every life he saves is another person who won’t leave a person screaming their loss and grief so loud that it wakes Peter up, for as often as he tried, he never can block out the mourners.

-

He meets Deadpool. He first was draw to the constant yelling that seemed to go on in his head, his thoughts screaming so many things that it made Peter’s head spin. There was grief in there, Peter knew, he could smell it’s acrid taste as it wafting from Deadpool's mind. It was burying, tramatically drowning as it swam in it’s own blood of jokes and hysterics.

 

People had told Peter to stay away from Deadpool, for he felt nothing. But Peter thinks he feels too much.

-

Peter could never ignore Deadpool’s thoughts, he learns. They’re too happy and sad and terribly angry at the same time, like a constant distress that tetters off when Peter arrives. Which probably makes Peter feel way too important than he actually is.

-

Deadpools talk to his thoughts, which is what makes Peter eventually stay around him. He can hear the conversations he has with what he’s dubbed ‘Yellow’ and ‘White’ and thinks it’s fascinating. Well, at first.

-

 _“Ohhh, Petey’s here.”_ Yellow whispers as Peter drops in the fight with some amateur world dominating. Peter sent a quick wave to Deadpool while White and Yellow argues the superiority of the nicknames Petey or Spidey. It was just _a bit_ distracting.

 

 **“I’ve told you, Spidey is an amazing name.”** White said to Yellow as Peter hacks another robot. Deadpool giggles, a high sound as he bashed a brown one’s face in. “Take that, Walli!” He said gleefully. Peter laughed, causing Deadpool to grin at him.

 

“ _But Petey is a wayyy more personal name and it shows that he showed us his name!”_ Yellow  says gleefully, as though he hasn’t made it clear a million times before.

 

White sighed dramatically, like White was an idiot. “ **But Spidey, doesn’t tell the enemy his name!”**

 

 **“** _Ohhh.”_

 

 _“_ Deadpool, focus!” Peter said, knowing that if he could tone down the boxes he could concentrate on the fight better.

 

 _“I like it when he uses his ‘Captain AmeriCAN’ voice.”_ White crooned, causing Peter to choke as he ducked an annoying machine gun thing.

 

The fight, which when it was over revealed too boy genius who lacked common sense and good parents, ended pretty much the way Peter expected it to.

After the battle (or squabble, but it was action), Deadpool bounced up to him with a grin and his hands swinging by his sides. “So, I was thinking, since I’m a good guy now, with like medals and stuff, I have to like soak up,” He gestured to his head. “The goodness that is Spi-Pie.” He wrinkled his nose. “Wait, forget that nickname.”

 

Peter laughed, walking toward the road with Deadpool in tow. “Tacos?”

Deadpool grinned.

-

 _“This is soo nice.”_ Yellow said as Deadpool chomped down on a taco _“And we didn’t even have to ask!”_ Yellow’s chatter had been getting increasingly louder as time went on, and Peter watched as Wade winced and whacked his head. “Be quiet up there.” He said, then stole a quick glance toward Peter with worry on his face. They were sitting on the edge of a building in the middle of New York, a box of Mexican Food in between them.

 

 **“You know,”** White said as Deadpool went back to eating. **“He’ll leave. Even if he’s not afraid of you for your ‘stunning personality’ no-one likes voices.”** Deadpool froze, lowening his taco and sighed quietly.

 

“I’m going go.” Deadpool said with a cheery grin that hid nothing and everything. “You know, people to drink, beers to see. Or is the other way around?” He made a spring to get up, putting down his half-finished taco, but yelped when Peter brought him back down.

 

“I -uh- I have something to tell you.” Peter said hesitantly.

 

 **“Told you.”** White said, causing Wade to freeze again and jerk away. “That’s okay? You know I- I’ll find another hero with a really nic-” He stopped, his joke falling short. “Yeah.”

 

 _“This cannot happen!”_ Yellow wailed, as Peter winched at the volume. “ _This is your fault, White!”_

 

**“Well, if I remember it was you who was told to shut up!”**

 

_“How dare you I-”_

 

Peter whistled a loud New Yorker whistle that echoed in the previous shrill tones of the boxes. “Be quiet! I’m not bloody leaving! I just wanted to say I can hear everything you guys say and you’re always fighting and it gets distracting during fights because you’re talking about really interesting facts about flamingos all the time!”

 

 _“Wat.”_ Yellow says as the taco Deadpool was holding falls to the mercy of the concrete fifty stories below.

-

They work it out. Deadpool permanently retires from being a ‘really nice person who just happens to un-alive people for money’ to ‘Spi-Pie’s friend that only un-alives someone when strictly necessary.’ The boxes stop fighting all the time, constantly wanting Peter’s attention. Wade mellows in general, not being as erratic or unresponsible as before. Peter approves and life goes on.

-

The next time Peter looks the wall in his mind, it has graffiti in the shape of Deadpool’s mask, and Peter wakes up laughing.

-

Everything’s good.


	2. Chapter 2

Updates on the BA Series:

 

1\. Translating in Process! 

Someone has offering to send me their translated version of this work into Deutsch! Thanks so much URR! ;D

**Author's Note:**

> This turned out to be a lot longer than I expected. Wow. Uh, I will definitely be making a sequel to this and if you're wondering about the title it loosely translates to 'Nonsensical Boxes' or 'Absurd Boxes.' ;3 
> 
> It would mean the world to me if you'd take a time out of your day to hit kudos or comments! 
> 
> Thanks,  
> ~Deduction


End file.
